This is the political sign that's omnipresent in my neighborhood. Greg Abbott's signs are conspicuous by their relative absence. (Rodger Jones)
One thing that jumps out in my fairly red Richardson neighborhood are Wendy Davis-for-governor signs. There are a few. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised about that, given the fervor of some of her supporters. But I would naturally expect the Greg Abbott signs to outnumber the Davis signs. They don’t, and that’s curious, until you think about his understated candidacy.
Mi esposa and I took a pre-dinner walk yesterday through the neighborhood to get exercise and eyeball landscapes. We live in Richardson, in House District 102, now represented by Stefani Carter and soon to be represented by her fellow Republican Linda Koop.
Yes, you think that’s presumptuous of me, since the votes have yet to be counted. But know this: the district went Romney over Obama 53-45 percent two years ago, and Carter won 57-43. Koop signs were within eyeshot of every point along on our little jaunt yesterday. The zone is flooded with Koop signs. You can bet your house and the car on Koop beating Democrat George Clayton next week.
Anyone else’s signs were harder to find. We saw two Wendy signs and only two Abbott signs. One of the Abbott signs shouldn’t count, because it was in a yard crowded with signs posted for every GOP candidate in big races — maybe 8-10 of them. Abbott seemed to get a sign there by default.
Why do Abbott yard signs not appear in proportion of the GOP strength in my neck of the woods? I read into this picture all my predilections.
The major one is that Abbott is not a terrifically inspiring candidate. He hasn’t galvanized people who live near me to make a statement in their front yards.
Abbott’s careful, in a lawyer-like way, like the judge that he used to be. He’s understated and organized. His well-paid team has the bases covered, and all Abbott has to do is circle them. He does that, with no dramatic flair, nothing memorable.
From his staff’s point of view, nothing memorable is a good thing. Abbott hasn’t wandered into hazardous territory, like the overconfident Clayton Williams did with his disrespect of Ann Richards and oafish remarks about rape.
Greg Abbott has run about the safest campaign for Texas governor that I can remember, using a classic frontrunner’s strategy of taking no risks.
If you questioned voters about their image of Abbott, I’d guest most would have only a vague notion of what he’s done and what he stands for. Ask them what the unifying theme is for his campaign, and most people might be stuck, beyond knowing that he’s a Republican who dislikes Obama and other things associated with Washington.
Abbott’s the standard bearer of the political status quo. “Steady as she goes” is not an exciting message, but it’s a winning one to imply for today’s red Texas. Plus, it can be interpreted as “Not Wendy.”
But that strategy could put Abbott at a disadvantage in office. Say he wins by, more or less, the 13-point margin that Rick Perry had over Bill White in 2010. Would Abbott claim a mandate? If so, where would he now say his passions lie and would become his signature issues?
The problem is, given Abbott’s passion-less campaign, it will take a neat political transformation to rev up his engines to burn hot for governing. But, you know, given the competence of his organization, they’ve probably got that scripted out, too.
They better have. The truly passionate Dan Patrick, whose jets burn white hot for governing as elected lieutenant governor, has been clear about his priority issues — border security and education choice.
If Abbott doesn’t want to be upstaged politically by Patrick later, he better start rehearsing that passion thing now. It’s too late to produce more yard signs, but it’s not yard signs Abbott will need in vying for attention with the the silver-tongued Dan Patrick.